Heart Made Whole Sample

8/16/2019 Heart Made Whole Sample

1/34


2/34

ZONDERVAN

Heart Made Whole

Copyright © 2016 by Christa Black Gifford

Requests for information should be addressed to:

Zondervan, 3900 Sparks Drive SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

ISBN 978-0-310-34650-0 (ebook)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Black, Christa, author.

Title: Heart made whole / Christa Black Gifford.

Description: Grand Rapids : Zondervan, 2016. | Includes bibliographical

references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2015049867 | ISBN 9780310346494 (softcover : alk. paper)

Subjects: LCSH: Consolation. | Suffering--Religious aspects--Christianity. |

Children--Death--Religious aspects--Christianity.

Classification: LCC BV4909 .B534 2016 | DDC 248.8/6--dc23 LC record available

at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015049867

Scripture quotations marked TPT are from the following books from The Passion

Translation®: The Psalms: Poetry on Fire; Luke and Acts: To the Lovers of God;

and Letters from Heaven: By the Apostle Paul. Copyright © 2014, 2015. Used by

permission of BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC, Racine, Wisconsin, USA. www

.thepassiontranslation.com. All rights reserved.

Other Scripture versions quoted in this book are listed on pages 199–200, which

hereby become a part of this copyright page.

Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book

are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an

endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these

sites and numbers for the life of this book.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in

a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic,

mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in

printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Published in association with the literary agent of The Burson Agency.

Cover design: Libby Gifford

Interior design: Kait Lamphere

First Printing April 2016 / Printed in the United States of America


3/34

To my little Goldie.

When your heart stopped beating, the pain that

came smashed my heart into a million pieces. But

even when my heart wanted to die along with

you, the Comforter and Healer became as real as

breath—wrapping me up in love, restoring peace.

In your forty minutes on this earth, you taught

me more about life than I’ve ever known.

You’re my hero, baby girl, and I miss you every day.

Until my arms hold you again,Mommy


4/34


5/34

Contents

Foreword by Lisa Bevere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Chapter 1 The Broken Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

Chapter 2 Managing Trauma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37

Chapter 3 The Doubting Heart . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59

Chapter 4

The Reconciled Heart . . . . . . . . . . . . 77Chapter 5 The Undivided Heart . . . . . . . . . . . . 99

Chapter 6 The Languages of the Heart . . . . . . 115

Chapter 7 The Naked Heart . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135

Chapter 8 Your Heart-Brain Connection . . . . 157

Chapter 9 A Heart Made Whole . . . . . . . . . . . 179

Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197

Bible Versions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199


6/34


7/34

11

Foreword

T his book is so beautiful, so necessary. I fear my words

won’t do it justice. This is not merely a collection of

pretty words tied up into the neat package of a book. What

you hold in your hands is treasure.

Living gold.

Heart Made Whole was forged in seasons of great travail

and loss. Don’t read this if you want to retain your excuses.

Pass it on to a friend if you want to live within the contain-

ment of faith formulas. Push it aside now if you want to

avoid pain … because it goes there.

But if you are feeling brave and ready to heal … read on.

I met Christa on the threshold of this story. It was in

a green room at a conference that we had both chosen toattend.

I loved her instantly.

She was larger than life. In my mind she was a cross

between a Celt and an Amazonian warrior … her cascading

hair, a statuesque body, and the pixie twinkle in her eye

brought to mind an elven princess. Christa was pregnant, but not just with child; she was pregnant with promise.

Everything about her made me smile. You could not help


8/34

Heart Made Whole

12

but want to touch her … what was in her and on her was

just that vibrant. I remember praying over her, the baby, and

her upcoming labor. My first labor had been hard and my

second one a breeze in comparison. I wanted a breeze for

Christa.

I began to watch her from afar. Something in me wanted

to protect her. Christa writes music that is more than songs

and books that are more than words. They are wrapped in

life and breath.

Time passed. Her beautiful baby girl, Goldie, was born,

but she couldn’t stay.

I will never understand what Christa went through.

I was not there, and even if I had been, I wouldn’t under-

stand the depths of this intimate loss. I could only watch

as Christa wrote. She penned the agony of her soul and thefaithfulness of her Father. I cried in my kitchen as I read

her blog on social media. Her words were raw, real, honest,

and ethereally beautiful. I knew then that light had pierced

Christa’s soul and that out of this suffering would come

pure gold. This gold is not to be treated lightly … hide it in

your heart and heal.The Old Testament has over three hundred references

to gold. Some of my favorites are found in the unlikely book

of Job.

Receive instruction from his mouth, and lay up his words in

your heart. If you return to the Almighty you will be built up; if

you remove injustice far from your tents, if you lay gold in thedust, and gold of Ophir among the stones of the torrent bed, then

the Almighty will be your gold and your precious silver. For then


9/34

13

Foreword

you will delight yourself in the Almighty and lift up your face to

God. (Job 22:22–26 ESV)

Thank you, Christa, for choosing to lift your face so that

countless others will have the courage to find healing and

strength in their places of pain. I love you, and I am so very

proud of you.

—Lisa Bevere

Bestselling author of Fight Like a Girl, Lioness

Arising, and Kissed the Girls and Made Them Cry

Cancer survivor


10/34


11/34

15

Chapter 1

The Broken

Heart A

s the muscles in my body began to tighten once again,

I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes, preparing for

the next wave of pain that crashed down hard with each

contraction.Noises of frantic preparation for my home birth echoed

down the hall and into my parents’ guest bedroom, where

I perched awkwardly on the end of the bed, holding the

underside of a watermelon belly that felt as if it might burst.

My projected due date to meet our first daughter, Luca

Gold, wasn’t for two more weeks, and because I had been

eleven days overdue with my son, we hadn’t prepared for an

early arrival.

My husband, Lucas, quickly joined my dad to rearrange

the living room furniture, roll back the rug, and inflate and

fill the birthing tub with warm water. We called the midwife

to let her know she needed to get there as quickly as possible,

and Mom ushered my almost two-year-old son Moses out

the door with a friend so he wouldn’t drive monster trucks

over my belly during labor. As my mother returned through


12/34

Heart Made Whole

16

the front door, I could hear her voice echoing through the

house: “This is just so exciting! Today is the day we get to

meet our Goldie!”

Another contraction came, this time more intense than

the rest, and like a bowling ball toppling to the floor, my

baby girl dropped hard into my pelvis. I looked down at the

white bedspread and fluffy new white carpet and decided

to push myself up in between contractions to waddle into

the nearest bathroom, knowing that no matter how eager

my mother was to meet her granddaughter, she probably

wouldn’t want me giving birth on her white carpet.

The moment I reached the toilet, easing myself down, I

felt a pop.

“My water broke!” I cried out all alone in the darkness,

realizing that the twelve-hour labor I endured with my sonmight turn into a twelve-minute labor with my daughter.

I could still hear everyone running around frantically

in the living room and wondered if they had even heard me

shout. And though I couldn’t wait to meet my little Goldie,

having a baby all alone in the dark while sitting on a toilet

wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned in my birthing plan.I picked up my phone on the edge of the bathtub and

texted my husband quickly. “Water broke!”

Still no husband. Still no midwife.

I felt helpless against a force working to push my baby

girl out while I fought desperately to hold her in.

“Babe! She’s coming!” I screamed.I stood instinctively to my feet, reaching down as my

husband raced around the corner just in time to place his


13/34

The Broken Heart

17

hands underneath mine to catch our baby girl. As we felt

her soft skin for the first time, we pulled her body up in

anticipation of the cries of life. Instead, we encountered a

screaming silence.

Our precious Goldie was missing the top of her skull

and most of her brain.

We let out a scream. The baby girl in my arms wasn’t

moving, and from the looks of things, we didn’t know if she

was even alive. Our midwife, Carol, ran in behind Luke right

when Goldie emerged from my womb, and she immediately

stepped in to take over, praying loudly as she tucked my

daughter’s little body close to my heart.

“Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus,” she whispered beneath our wails

and sobs, working to clean up the disaster that should have

been a celebration.With help from all sides, I shuffled slowly back to the

bedroom, my body still heavy under the weight of trauma

and the shock of labor. Cradling my daughter in my arms,

I crumpled in a pile of sobs onto the bed. I held her warm

little body close, as though clinging to life itself, horrified

by the unexpected sight of my baby girl whose eyelid had been torn back in birth, and whose underdeveloped brain

was exposed. A part of me was petrified to look at the night-

mare unfolding in my arms, but as a mother who could see

nothing but beauty in her child, I couldn’t keep my eyes off

of her little face—so innocent and pure.

Luke crawled up beside us onto the bed, his usually stoicframe collapsing with grief, while Carol pulled out her tools

to begin checking my body and examining Goldie for signs


14/34

Heart Made Whole

18

of life. My baby girl lay as still and stiff as a porcelain doll,

but after pressing the metal stethoscope up to her tiny chest,

Carol looked up into my eyes.

“I hear a heartbeat,” she whispered.

Luke and I cried out in disbelief, weeping with joy that

our daughter was alive, but facing the horror that at any

moment our little gold bird might fly away and leave us as

quickly as she had come. I didn’t know what was wrong,

much less if it could be fixed, and I was too afraid to ask anyquestions—too petrified to know what was really happen-

ing. The mother bear inside longed to fight for the life of her

daughter, but looking at her condition, my mercy heart was

mortified at the thought of her enduring life in this state.

As Carol continued to work, securing the umbilical

cord, I wrapped my daughter’s tiny hand around my fingerand kissed her soft lips over and over, a waterfall of tears

running down my chin onto her perfect skin. Every few

minutes, Carol would stop and check her heart again and

we would hold our breath each time.

“She still has a heartbeat. Do you want to hear?”

Luke reached eagerly for the stethoscope and placed it

to his ears, caressing her perfect face while listening to the

miracle of life that flowed through her veins.

For the next forty minutes, our little Luca Gold’s heart

fought to beat on this earth. She was so brave and so strong,

fighting to be with her family for as long as she could. Within

those precious minutes, we kissed her little face, her hands,

and her open wounds. We prayed, embraced, and wept. We

wrapped her up in something pretty and soft and took pic-

ture after picture, longing to never forget what time would


15/34

The Broken Heart

19

soon run past. Every moment was stabbed with excruciating

pain, yet every time her heart beat, our hearts pounded with

irrational hope.

But her little body wasn’t whole enough to let her

soul remain. As brief as a breath on the wind, our Goldie

was gone.

We sat numbed from shock, our bodies fighting for

breath, knowing our daughter would never breathe again.

As Luke crawled off the bed to stand beside me, I watchedhis strong arms fall down helplessly, unable to protect and

fix the way he always could. Whispering in between sobs, I

reached out for his hand.

“Babe, do you want to hold her?”

My husband reached out to cradle the lifeless body of

his only daughter and lift her into his arms—the little girl hehad dreamed of fighting for, adoring with kisses and songs,

and someday walking down the aisle. As if he was hit by a

truck, his knees buckled as his body crashed into the wall,

sliding down to crumple into a heap of tears onto the floor.

I lay in bed, head swirling, watching the surreal scene

unfolding beside me. Every part of my physical body still

ached from the pain of natural childbirth, but that pain felt

like a paper cut compared to the torturous agony that had

just detonated within my heart. It was as if a nuclear bomb

had been dropped and my insides were exploding into

pieces while I sat and watched. The world was spinning so

quickly that every cell of my body fought to cling to some

sort of reality, but the anguish was so tormenting that a part

of my heart just wanted to give up and die with my daughter.

I closed my eyes and let the precious gift of air fill my


16/34

Heart Made Whole

20

lungs—a gift I took for granted each day. If I didn’t stop the

spin and hold on tightly to something—anything—I knew

that I could easily get lost in the blast. In this moment—the

worst moment of my life—I could allow the inferno of pain

to burn at my heart, destroying my soul with bitterness,

rage, and distrust. I could put up a fortress inside in my fury

against betrayal. I could shake my fist at heaven and point

my finger in accusation, putting God on trial for abandoning

my daughter as her lifeless body lay in my husband’s arms.

But I had learned from years of dealing with heart-pain

incorrectly—through trying to hide it, numb it, or avoid

it—that pain never goes away on its own. It must be felt,

embraced, and brought to a Healer. I knew that these were

the kinds of moments that wrote the pages of the future. This

kind of trauma was powerful enough to ruin my marriage.It was heavy enough to dam up my joy, forever damaging

my young son and future children. I knew from experience

that this kind of tragedy can turn a heart into stone, eventu-

ally shutting it down completely in order to survive. It was

strong enough to spin me back into addictions, depression,

performance, and all the cages I had fought so hard toclimb out of over the years. I knew that in these seconds of

extreme torture, the choices I made would affect my heart,

my relationships, and the rest of my days on planet earth.

I sighed deeply through the sobs and reached up, placing

my hand over my heart—the same heart smashed to pieces

by the violent hand of tragic death. Inside of my brokenheart, I made the choice that changed my life.

I chose to take my pain to Jesus.


17/34

The Broken Heart

21

UNAVOIDABLE PAIN

I hope you will never know the hell on earth of burying a

baby girl as I did, but if you’re breathing right now, then I

guarantee that you have had all sorts of awful experiences

that crashed at your heart like a wrecking ball operated by

a cruel world. As long as we live in a fallen world where sin,

death, and time exist, trouble and pain will visit us all.

Moreover, adversity doesn’t just come in big packages

like death—it can be small, annoying, and wrapped up so

ugly, you’d rather just send it back. There were times in my

past when being unable to fit into my jeans was on par with

the end of the world, and other times when getting stuck in

a traffic jam warranted the annihilation of my fingernails.

Canceled flights have left me stranded, and boys have leftme abandoned. I have found my bank account overdrawn,

survived multiple car wrecks, and had more than my fair

share of backstabbing betrayals. I’ve dealt with the ravages of

addiction, suffered the scars of sexual abuse, and landed in

rehab from an eating disorder—all while living in an abun-

dant first-world country with the rarity of loving, Christian,middle-class parents who are still happily married.

Although my early days bloomed with an abundance of

good more than bad, the nature of the bad experiences early

on ate away at my heart, and I limped like a cripple into my

adult years. The longer the traumas of life went unhealed, the

more the pain poisoned every moment, eventually plaguingmy life with the diseases of depression and addiction. Days

turned upside down into constant night, and joy became a


18/34

Heart Made Whole

22

land I wasn’t sure I would ever visit again. At many points,

it felt easier to just stop breathing and end it all.

As I have learned over years of traveling, meeting thou-

sands of people, suffering doesn’t discriminate according

to age, gender, race, social class, or even Christian or non-

Christian—even though most of us in the Jesus camp would

like for it to. For years, I subconsciously assumed that as a

follower of Christ, I had somehow received an exemption

pass to be carried over the horrendous trials of life. I truly believed that being a Christian assured me that tornados

would never hit my house, that murderers wouldn’t choose

to kill me, and that I’d never have any major physical or

financial problems as long as I believed in the power of

God, declaring His promises in my life. But when trouble

kept smacking me out of left field, my betrayed heart always blamed the same God for not doing His promised job to

protect me as His little girl. Deep down, I assumed that

He kept breaking His word and dropping His sovereignty

ball, reneging on His responsibility to make sure I never fell

down and got hurt too badly.

But to our Christian dismay, Jesus didn’t say if we have

difficulties; He said when. He didn’t say that if you’re a faith-

ful intercessor, all your prayers will be answered the way

you want, and if you’re an avid churchgoer and dedicated

Bible reader, then you’re assured of perpetual success. He

didn’t say if you’re a good friend you will never be betrayed,

or promise that if you’re a powerful apostle, you won’t be

brutally murdered. Rather, Jesus promised that as long as

we live in a fallen world—which we do—we will go through

all sorts of adversity, even while believing in the promises of


19/34

The Broken Heart

23

God. I’m sure the beheaded apostle Paul, the stoned Stephen,

and the crucified upside-down Peter are nodding their

heavenly heads in agreement.

None of us finds out what we’re made of when every-

thing is rolling along nicely; we find out who we really are

when hell is pressing in from all sides. Trauma burns with

such a hot fire that if we have any cracks in our foundation,

all of them will be exposed.

THE REAL ESTATE OF YOUR HEART

Each of us has an inner realm that either thrives or withers,

depending on the tenants we allow to reside within. Take a

moment and use your vivid imagination, seeing your heartas a large building—floor after floor built each year as life

expands upward.

Your heart was dreamed up by the Master Architect

before your little life ever took form, and God designed it

with great attention to detail, equipping your heart with

certain desires and abilities to fulfill a unique destiny. God

created some of your hearts as business offices, and you

find it easy to negotiate with numbers and strategy. Some

are stunning art galleries, coming alive while displaying

beauty, music, fashion, and creativity. Many are dripping

with relational nurture, designed to be a home where life,

children, ministry, and activity thrive. Others are hospi-

tals, and you’ve always longed to help others, learning the

human body, science, and composition. God dreamed up,

fashioned, and crafted you with specific characteristics,


20/34

Heart Made Whole

24

and when you’re living out your original design, the entire

building pulses with life.

More often than not, however, our “buildings” sustain

damage in a world where sin and death still exist. Your

childhood formed the bottom of your structure, and unfor-

tunately, many of you didn’t get off to a great foundational

start. If you were neglected and abused, or abandoned and

mistreated, the building of your heart might have been

lonely and bare, erected with dodgy, half-finished roomstrashed by tenants named pain, fear, shame, and anger. Even

if your family resembled The Brady Bunch, none of us had a

perfect childhood, and every person on earth has endured

some sort of internal damage. As each year added a new

layer to the real estate of your heart, at times it was easy to

forget about the damaged childhood floors at the bottom thehigher you climbed. But the problem is, if the bottom of your

building was shaky, then it was difficult to build upward

without putting the whole thing at risk for collapse.

When I was a kid, none of the boys in my class ever

looked my way, even though I desperately wanted them

to. And as the trauma of rejection happened over and over

again throughout the years, I rented out more and more real

estate in my heart to the tenant of fear—petrified that every

guy in the world would find me as repulsive as the little

boys of my childhood.

The thing about this kind of pain is, it doesn’t stay locked

away in rooms down below. It can turn into a monster gang

that takes over the whole building. One little monster of

rejection from childhood, after feasting for decades, can

turn into Godzilla. It keeps breeding, moving into new


21/34

The Broken Heart

25

apartments as space becomes available, to do more damage.

And one tiny monster of shame can grow into a T. rex over

the years—especially when your heart continues to feed

the beast.

The hardest thing about my inner monster, Pain, was that

as long as he was coexisting with me, his high-maintenance

tendencies prevented me from enjoying my life. Because I

had to focus on him all the time, afraid that I wouldn’t be

able to keep him hidden and appeased, I lived in constantfear and anxiety. I couldn’t turn around and focus on friend-

ships without him interfering and messing things up, or plan

out my future without his fearful input and lies. He loved

rearing his head at the most inopportune times to sabotage

romantic love, letting me know I wasn’t worthy of things

like that. If a boy started coming around and getting tooclose, I’d make sure to act so crazy that he’d end up running

for the hills. My enemy Pain would play old movies in my

mind to remind me of my dirty past, my constant rejection,

and current struggles— jeering in contempt when I would

burst into tears.

Many times, when I had finally had enough of Pain’s

ruthless antics, I would grab the keys to my heart back from

his hands, serving him an angry eviction notice to vacate

the premises. But every time, he’d just laugh. “What are you

going to do without me, Christa?” his voice would hiss and

sneer, pointing at the damaged heart he had trashed and

destroyed over years of abusive habitation. “I’m the only

one who would ever live in this dump. And if I’m not here,

you’ll be all alone; even God wouldn’t set foot in this filthy,

sinful hole until you clean it up. But fixing yourself hasn’t


22/34

Heart Made Whole

26

ever worked, has it? You might as well get used to me being

around, because you’re never going to change, and I’m not

ever going to leave.”

This Pain monster had lived with me for such a long

time, I couldn’t distinguish his voice from my own voice,

his lies from my truth, and his heart from my heart. We

had become so twisted into oneness that the tangled mess

seemed more overwhelming to unravel than learning how

to fly into space. I hated this monster and I didn’t want himaround, but without any strength to keep fighting, my only

choice was to surrender and try to cope with him being

there. I had resigned myself to the fact that existence was

synonymous with pain, and I needed to learn how to man-

age this reality in order to survive. As my heart succumbed

to despair, the monster named Pain would throw his scalyarm around my shoulder and once again snatch the keys out

of my hands back into his own.

“Don’t worry, Christa,” he’d whisper into the darkness

with an evil grin. “I’ll take good care of you. Get used to this

life, sweetie, because there’s no cure for me.”

As long as the monster named Pain held the keys to my

heart, he was in charge of the real estate inside. And the one

thing I really wanted was the one thing I believed I could

never have: freedom.

If you have old, unwanted heart tenants that you have

never learned to evict, I promise you: they are not going

to leave your building on their own. Even though they’re

just renters on your property, if they’re living inside, then

you’ve allowed them to sign a lease agreement until you

kick them out.


23/34

The Broken Heart

27

The good news is, no matter how shaky your heart

foundation might be, every person is wired up for electricity

at birth. When God fashioned and created you, He wired

Himself into the framework of your being, hoping you

would someday give Him permission to hook your power

source up to His. And as Jesus knocked on your front door

with salvation and you invited Him into your building, the

Holy Spirit was like a worker from the electric company,

plugging you into His eternal outlet of power. Because ofHis abiding presence inside, your entire heart will forever

be capable of lighting up with new life.

But just because your electricity is turned on doesn’t

mean the entire building uses it. And just because Jesus and

His power are always available doesn’t mean every part of

your heart wants to turn on the light switch—especiallywhen old pain likes to stay hidden.

In the case of my own heart, I found that nasty tenants

like fear, shame, bitterness, and anger enjoyed hiding out in

dark rooms, boarding up their windows and locking doors

to stay concealed. Some of my childhood trauma had been

so painful, it preferred being vaulted away and forgotten as

lost memories to protect me. A few of my years had been

so emotionally crippling, I had built walls around entire

sections of my heart.

HEART CHECK

Take a moment and place your hand on your chest, breath-

ing in deeply and becoming aware of the physical organ that


24/34

Heart Made Whole

28

beats inside to pump life and blood to every part of your

body. The blood that’s pumped to your brain allows you to

think and make decisions and causes the rest of your body

to function. The blood pumped to your fingers and toes

makes them able to move, run, work, and play. The blood

pumping through your organs makes them work together

to maintain life. If blood is cut off from any part of the body,

that part dies. Without a healthy physical heart, your body

cannot survive, and life ceases to exist.The same is true for this metaphysical heart govern-

ing from the inside. This inner realm—the center of your

being—is the origin of every move you make, every word

you speak, every thought you think, and every action you

take. Plainly put, your insides produce your outsides. You

are the landlord of your heart, and you control who takesup residence. When God moved into your life, you didn’t

sign over ownership papers to your building where He took

control. Rather, He gave you possession of your heart long

ago and will never take back that gift. He will always be

the leasing tenant, defaulting to your choices, and you will

always own the property. You can choose to let Him rent out

the entire building (and that is our ultimate goal as believ-

ers), but as long as you’re harboring old wounds, beliefs,

unforgiveness, and lies—allowing them to make themselves

at home in your heart— Jesus won’t bust in and kick them

out. He needs your permission. He needs your master key.

He needs you to give Him access to every floor, every room,

and every locked, forgotten space.

For many years I didn’t understand this, wanting God to

just barge in and take over my heart while I lifted my hands


25/34

The Broken Heart

29

in a worship service, putting me on autopilot. I expected

myself to be perfect, or imperfect—I was either sinless or a

complete fraud. I didn’t understand that the gift of grace was

like a lifetime warranty that covered the process of my heart

transformation, empowering me to live differently. I didn’t

acknowledge that my heart had taken decades to break and

that it might take some intentionality to heal. I didn’t realize

that God’s whole purpose for moving into my mess was to

ensure that my heart was renovated properly, room by roomand floor by floor. God has never been overwhelmed by the

amount of work that needs to be done inside my building or

condemned me for how trashed it became over the years. In

fact, He knew I didn’t have the tools, knowledge, strength,

or power to make everything new the way He did —which

is why He chose to make my heart His home.As I have walked the hard road towards my own heal-

ing, I have found that heart transformation is never about

finishing a perfect building, then sitting back and relaxing

for the rest of my life. It’s about living in relationship with the

God who resides within—learning how to surrender more

inner space and lease to Him all the real estate that my heart

has to offer. The apostle Paul sums it up beautifully: “This

entire building is under construction and is continually

growing under His supervision until it rises up, completed

as the holy temple of the Lord himself. This means that God

is transforming each one of you into the Holy of Holies, His

dwelling place through the power of the Holy Spirit living in

you” (Ephesians 2:21–22).

The problem is, because we will continue to live in

a world where unexpected tornados will destroy, where


26/34

Heart Made Whole

30

wounded people keep wounding us, and where the enemy

has his wrecking ball aimed at crumbling our hearts to the

ground, we will always need a handy repairman as life takes

its toll. Thankfully, we have continual access to a brilliant

Carpenter, a Master Architect, and a General Contractor

with an arsenal of power tools, ready to repair, restore, and

renew everything.

PAIN CAN BE HEALED

You can’t control the storms that pound against the walls of

your inner realm, but you can control whether or not your

heart chooses to become a shelter of peace during those

storms. You can’t control your parents’ decision to divorce, but you can choose whether or not your heart grows bitter

and cold. You can’t control that you don’t have a job, but you

can choose whether or not you move into anxiety or stay

steady with trust. You can’t control the betrayal of a spouse,

but your heart can choose to forgive. The space inside of

your heart is the only place where you will ever have fullownership and authority. You are the guardian of your

heart, and as the final say over your inner realm, you’re the

only one who can decide what happens next.

At this very moment, your life is the sum total of all the

choices you have made, because you’re the only one who

can make them. You can either choose to surrender yourheart to pain monsters, or to a Healer who died to make

everything whole.


27/34

The Broken Heart

31

As I sit in a coffee shop writing these pages just five

months after losing my daughter to a condition I didn’t

even know existed, called anencephaly, I have already had

three people stop by my table and ask with genuine concern,

“How are you really doing, Christa?”

When people have asked me this, most of them expect

me to lie, rambling off the cliché answer, “Oh, I’m fine,” to

try to avoid an awkward moment. Some might think I will

clam up and change the subject, or possibly even burst into

tears. And when the uncontrollable tears do flow from time

to time, I’m never ashamed of them. But today, and every

day since my Luca Gold left my life to head home and be

with Jesus, when asked this question, a part of my heart

has been able to answer in a remarkable way that I never

thought possible.“Today is the most painful day of my life, but my heart

is still thriving.”

UNSHAKEABLE

Some might think I’m being irreverent after tragically losing

my daughter. It’s assumed that having feelings of true peace

and even joy in the fire must mean I’ve cloaked myself in

some sort of self-protective denial in order to survive. But

I have learned the hard way that pain doesn’t just go away,

even when you turn your back on it.This time around, with this level of heartache over losing

my daughter, I’ve been determined to try a new approach.


28/34

Heart Made Whole

32

I have chosen to turn around and run towards the pain.

Like a young boy named David facing an enormous giant,

I have chosen to take on the monster named Pain. I have

thrown my arms around this current suffering and all the

hardships that come with it and have made a commitment

to feel everything as the heavy emotions of grief, anger,

hurt, and loss steamroll over my soul on a daily basis. I have

pledged to learn everything I can inside this fire to equip

me to overcome future flames. I have invited the refining

nature of extreme heat to consume everything in my heart

that keeps me broken.

I have not shut down like I have in the past.

I have not medicated through addiction.

I have refused to live numb.

I have not run to escape.And I will never turn my back on the pain of losing my

daughter. She deserves better than that.

In this very moment, I’m standing inside the most ago-

nizing moments of my life, knowing that if I don’t continue

to deal with the pain that accompanies this trauma, it will

destroy my heart and cripple me for years to come. So eachday I choose to confront the reality that I will never hear my

daughter’s sweet little voice, or watch her crawl for the first

time, or drop her off at school and wave good- bye, or feel

her soft dark curls between my fingers as she falls asleep,

nestled safely under my chin. And when I sit down in the

hottest fire of my life, the unexpected happens: The veryplace of my deepest pain miraculously becomes the starting

point of my heart’s greatest healing.


29/34

The Broken Heart

33

You see, pain itself is not the enemy. Pain is inevitable

in this bumper-car life where you will continue to collide

with a fallen world that you cannot control. Unhealed pain,

however, will become your greatest foe if your broken heart

is not made whole again after each collision. And dearest

friend, there is only One who can take the shattered pieces of

your heart and put it back together so that it flourishes even

in the worst situations.

As I’ve learned from my incredible therapist mother,

when you’re living in wholeness with Jesus and your heart

is thriving, you can be unshakeable, living fully alive in

each moment, taking risks, trusting your heart, fully aware

of what you love, remaining yourself in every circumstance,

and adoring God with every part of your being. However,

if your heart remains broken, even as a Christian you willexperience consistent separation between your heart, soul,

mind, and spirit that keeps you from living in joyful connec-

tion with God and others.

After years of living as a Christian with a broken, bleed-

ing heart that continued to spew out all sorts of unpleasant

things, I finally uncovered a mine of precious jewels thatseemed too good to be true, but actually was true. And it

began with a Holy Spirit–guided journey to the center of

my truest self—the heart that Jesus loved so much that He

died to live inside of it. I realized that in order to find out

what it meant to live each moment from my inheritance of

wholeness, I needed to learn how to let the Healer make mewhole. And in order to do that, I had to let Him have full

access to every emotion, every trauma and shameful truth.


30/34

Heart Made Whole

34

I couldn’t hide my wounded heart and expect it to heal. I

couldn’t neglect my feelings and expect them to change. I

had to surrender, hold tightly to the hand of my Savior, and

turn around to face the overwhelming mess. I had to allow

Love to start pouring into my inner self to cast out all my

fear—turning my heart into the home it was created to be.

I hope you will accompany me on a journey to the center

of your truest self—letting the Light of heaven shine inside

every forgotten room, condemned vault, and shameful hall-way. As you allow the divine presence of Love to bind up

your wounds, He will show you how to tend to your heart

gently and carefully, extending kindness, patience, and

mercy as it’s cleansed and healed. But most of all, He will

teach you how to love your heart the way He does—lavishly,

fiercely, and passionately.It’s time for every part of your heart to be loved into

wholeness.

Open- Heart Surgery

1. Until Jesus comes back again, trouble will be a reality inour lives. Have you lived to avoid pain and hardship, or

been angry at God when life gets tough? What kinds of

emotional, physical, and spiritual damage has your heart

endured over the years that hasn’t seemed to heal?

2. Take a few moments and meditate on the real estate of

your heart. What does your “building” look like? Does ithave a spotless exterior to hide the pain monsters living

on the inside? Is it crumbling and broken, or strong and


31/34

The Broken Heart

35

whole? If you have pain monsters, what are your primary

tenants? (Examples: fear, shame, bitterness, self-hatred,

jealousy.)

3. Has the foundation of your heart building been shaky

since childhood, affecting your adult years? Have you

turned on the light in each room in your heart, allowing

the light of heaven access to every part of your heart—

the good and the bad? Take several minutes to write a

description of your building, allowing yourself to be

brutally honest with how your building makes you feel.

4. After putting your hand on your physical heart, feeling

the blood pumping inside, were you able to dial into

your metaphysical heart? What did it feel like? If this was

hard, don’t worry—most people have shut down theirhearts to some extent in order to survive pain. Take a few

more moments and close your eyes, breathing in deeply

to become aware of your inner realm, asking the Holy

Spirit to fill you. See your heart wired up for electricity,

ready to come alive with the light of God. If you’re tired

of the pain and ready to turn on the light switch, then

close your eyes and form a mental picture of the master

key of your heart that gives access to all rooms inside.

Hand over your key to Jesus, giving Him permission to

go wherever He needs to go in the days and weeks ahead.

5. In a busy world that doesn’t slow down, it’s easy to focus

on everyone but ourselves—especially when we don’tthink we’re worth it. But what we need to realize is, the

investment that we make in ourselves will determine


32/34

Heart Made Whole

36

everything about our lives, making it the most important

decision we could ever make. Write out a commitment

letter to yourself, pledging to be honest and open as you

journey to the center of your heart with the guidance

and comfort of the Holy Spirit. Commit to the process,

no matter how hard, long, or messy it gets. Sign and date

your pledge below.


33/34

37

Chapter 2

Managing

Trauma T

he days following Luca’s death crept along at a snail’s

pace. It felt as though grief had a tangible weight

attached to it, as heavy as an elephant, threatening to flatten

my fragile heart every moment.Although I had been living in freedom for many years

from all the old ways I used to medicate pain, my brain still

had those memories stored and filed away. I remembered

that if I binged on food, my heart would temporarily feel full

and in control—and I needed to feel in control. I knew that if

I drank too much whiskey at 9:00 a.m., I could pass out and

forget about the pain—and I just wanted to forget. The pain

was so great that I easily considered all of my old means of

escape. Temptation banged on the door of my heart louder

than it had in over a decade, begging to let substances back

in to do their temporary job of numbing a heart screaming

in unfathomable agony.

What made it worse were the well-meaning but theo-

logically inaccurate comments and advice dispensed by

fellow believers.


34/34

HEART MADE WHOLE

Turning Your Unhealed Pain into Your

Greatest Strength By Christa Black Gifford

In Heart Made Whole, Christa Black Gifford sharesher own stories of loss, betrayal, and personaltragedy, chronicling clear steps to redemption tohelp those in pain invite the true Healer into the

tangled mess of their broken hearts. Gifford remindsreaders that pain is not their enemy, however,unhealed pain can become their greatest foe if it’ snot taken to Jesus.

When trials and tragedy hit our lives in a fallenworld, our hearts can get smashed to bits, and weend up putting God on trial and blaming Him for the

mess. But Christa helps readers understand thatthey don’ t have to live controlled by their

circumstances - or angry with God. Instead, sheprovides powerful insight and practical steps to turnthe painful fire that comes to destroy us into anunexpected friend that can produce our greatesthealing.

The condition of the heart determines the conditionof life--and the heart can be bound up and healed,producing freedom and abundant life. With personalworkbook sections for each chapter Christa helpsreaders experience steps to turn their pain into thehealing and wholeness available to every believer.

Get Your Copy of Heart Made Whole!

Learn More
http://www.zondervan.com/heart-made-wholehttp://www.zondervan.com/heart-made-wholehttp://www.zondervan.com/heart-made-wholehttp://www.zondervan.com/heart-made-whole

Heart Made Whole Sample

Documents